


Christmas for Alexander

by orphan_account



Series: "The Other One" Universe [2]
Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Christmas, Christmas Presents, Kid Sherlock, Midnight, One hint at an adult gift, Redbeard - Freeform, Sneaking Out, Snow, The word "arse"
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-10
Updated: 2015-08-10
Packaged: 2018-04-13 23:10:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,548
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4541043
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It was officially Christmas and there was no arguing with Alexander. They absolutely had to go out, right then. The stars were too pretty not to.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Christmas for Alexander

Sherlock was twelve when his brother decided to wake him up in the middle of the night one Christmas Eve. Technically it was Christmas Day, but it hardly counted since they wouldn't be able to unwrap presents yet.

He was on his stomach and the boy decided that the best way to wake him up was by sitting on the small of his back, similarly to how one would straddle a horse. Sherlock furrowed his brow immediately and struggled to sit up, but the weight on his back made it impossible. "Ge'off!" he mumbled urgently, pushing himself up with both of his hands. To his relief, there was a recognisable giggle and the weight lifted. He turned over and reached to twist the lamp switch, squinting.

His younger brother, Alex, had a toothy grin that would've been contagious if he hadn't just woken him up in the weirdest way he could imagine. "We need to go outside," he whispered, then bit his lip.

Underneath his bed thumped the tail of a large dog at the mention of going to "the out place", as they referred to it when they didn't want him to get excited. The dog crawled out from underneath the bed and hopped up, wriggling and waggling and stepping all over Sherlock.

Sherlock squirmed and groaned when the dog stepped right on his bladder, causing him to sit up. "Alex, it's the dead of night. If Redbeard hasn't already alerted our parents, all it takes is someone getting up to use the loo and deciding to check on us for them to notice we're gone. We can go later."

"But it won't be as special later."

"You're right - it'll be slightly less special. Worth not giving Mummy and Daddy a heart attack and needing to listen to an hour-long lecture."

Alex pouted and looked at the floor.

"Don't do that."

"Do what?"

"Guilt trip me. It hardly works when Mummy does it."

He huffed and knelt on the side of the bed. "Please? Just for two minutes. It's so nice outside, and no one will notice we're gone."

Sherlock looked at him and sighed. He wasn't going to give up, he knew that very well. And Redbeard was going to throw a fit if he didn't get to go after already hearing the word. So he muttered "Fine" and slipped out of bed to get on another layer so he wouldn't freeze out there.

Alex beamed and bounced on his bed a little, hugging Redbeard. No doubt he was grateful for his part in this nonsense. Sherlock put on a thick robe and a pair of warm slippers before he returned to frowning at his younger brother. "Let's get this over with."

The brothers snuck out of the house as best they could, and Sherlock was forced to carry Redbeard the whole way there, lest his excited running and the scraping of his nails on the wooden floor give them away. He wasn't happy about it, but knew he probably would be. And maybe the repercussions wouldn't be so bad. Once they were out the front door, Sherlock set Redbeard down and the dog went bounding through the thin layer of snow on the grass.

He and Alex sat on the stairs before the front door and watched the dog go crazy over the concept of the awesome white cold stuff that melted when he peed. Sherlock looked back at Alex and sighed. "So what was so important that you wanted to come out here?" he asked.

Alex shrugged and hummed. "It's nice. Isn't it? Quiet." He looked up at the sky and smiled. He didn't know how to match all the stars into their constellations, but they were beautiful regardless. "The sky is pretty."

"Yes, it is." Sherlock smiled and looked up. "Why does it matter to you if it's quiet? You're noisy."

"You're mean." He pouted, then shrugged again. "I like quiet too. But I also like having fun. Not like you."

"I like having fun."

"You don't show it." He looked back at him and frowned. "You don't play anymore. And I don't think you have friends."

"You're my friend."

"I'm your brother."

"Just a coincidence."

Alex grinned with a happy blush and leaned over to rest his head on his brother's shoulder. "I just want you to have fun still. Myc doesn't."

"Myc's got a stick up his arse."

He giggled, covering his mouth in some attempt of hiding it. "You shouldn't say things like that."

"Why not? It made you laugh. And it's true. He's all, 'you need to grow up and be a responsible adult'. Thinks he's the be-all-end-all."

He sighed. "He's sad."

"I don't think he is."

"I don't think he feels sad. He just makes me sad. Inside. You know?"

Sherlock sighed and nodded. "I know," he whispered, wrapping an arm around his shoulders. He hugged him into his side. "I'll never be like him."

"Promise?"

"Promise."

Alex smiled a little more and looked back at Redbeard, who was in the corner of the fenced-in yard peeing on a tree. "I want to be dog when I grow up. They're so happy."

He didn't have the heart to tell him that he couldn't be a dog when he was older. And for the most part, he understood. Alex was always the most chipper of them all, inspiring joy in Sherlock and disappointment in their older, more distant brother. "I hope you do too," he said softly.

"I love you."

He looked over at his little brother and frowned. He didn't know what he did to inspire the statement, but he didn't ask. "I love you too, Alex. Let's go inside. We have presents to open when morning comes."

"Okay."

They got up and quietly called Redbeard. Sherlock struggled to pick up the dog again, who was now wet and soggy from running around in the snow. They were quiet as they snuck back into the house, careful to shut the door slowly before tiptoeing back to Sherlock's room.

Redbeard was happy to scoot himself back underneath the bed and the two boys shared a hug before Alex left to his own room.

Sherlock took off his slippers and robe before he returned to his bed, which was welcoming and so very warm. He didn't have any difficulty falling back asleep.

A few hours later, around five in the morning, Alex got impatient and woke their parents up to watch them open gifts. Both Sherlock and Mycroft were summoned from sleep to go sit around the coffee table while Alex retrieved the gifts from underneath the tree and handed them out to everyone according to the name tag.

Almost all of them were neatly wrapped in Christmas paper and the tags had their mother's handwriting, except a few which were wrapped sloppily with racecars and had clumsy crayon handwriting. Those were obviously Alex's.

The entire time, Mycroft had an "I'm too old for this" air about him, and he looked like he just wanted to leave and go home to his flat - wherever that was. Neither Sherlock nor Alex were allowed there, and there was the distinct feeling that their parents weren't either. Regardless, he did put on a smile for his new watch and the newest, latest gadget that would handle all of his emailing and whatever. His racecar-wrapped gift was a deck of collectible playing cards. He looked vexed and disappointed, but Mummy glared at him and he forced a "oh my god this is the best gift ever" attitude that convinced no one but Alex, but he was the only person that mattered.

Their parents got each other boring gifts: socks, blankets, and one thing that both of them refused to open. Sherlock furrowed his brow and Mycroft looked disgusted, and Alex was ever oblivious.

Sherlock was given a new music book for the violin, along with a new set of strings and a microscope from a university that was updating to new equipment. From Alex, he got a card which declared that he loved him the most and had a drawing of them playing Frisbee with Redbeard. Obviously the boy didn't yet have a grasp on what was appropriate to say, but Sherlock enjoyed it so much more because it wasn't hidden behind a filter.

Alex was ecstatic in the face of the two boxes of 200-count mini candy canes, as well as a hat that had a puff on the top and covered his ears, and a little car that was supposed to seat two Barbies. He was far more interested in the car than he was in actually filling the seats of it. For the rest of the day he lie on the floor mimicking vehicular manslaughter with his action figures and the one Barbie doll he did have. And it was all perpetrated by Batman, who said nothing other than "I'm Batman" while he crashed into countless other superheroes of all shapes and sizes.

Redbeard got a laser pointer and crashed into the dishwasher trying to chase the red dot.

The day proved to be a fond memory for both of the young brothers. And it wouldn't have been as special if Alex wasn't such an insistent little twit of a child.


End file.
